


Four Times Madame Giry Danced, and One Time She Didn't

by ChokolatteJedi



Category: Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: 5 Times, Backstage, Backstory, Dancing, F/M, Operas, Possibly Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-17 12:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/ChokolatteJedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at her life in the Opera House</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times Madame Giry Danced, and One Time She Didn't

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Carmarthen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmarthen/gifts).



> Much thanks to my beta, Fluffy!
> 
> Madame Giry doesn't have a first name in the musical, so I just used the one from the sequel books.

Antoinette couldn't remember a time when she wasn't dancing. She had spun and twirled all around her family's small apartment when she was supposed to be doing chores. She had skipped and chassed her way down the street to school. And she had snuck into the Opera houses and watched the corps practicing. She was determined that one day she was going to be a danseuse, or maybe even a prima ballerina. She watched the girls in the Opera House, and she practiced, dancing every day. One day she was going to dance on that stage.

**o**

She wasn't sure why she freed him. The boy had just killed a man - albeit a man who was trying to kill him - and she had always been a good girl. She had even been frightened of the boy only moments before. But something about the look in his eyes had made her feel compassion towards the chained boy. Now, as she snuck through the catacombs beneath the Opera House looking for him, Antoinette worried that she had made a mistake.

Finally, she found the boy, huddled in a corner. She tried to reach for him, but he cowered and snapped at her. He was acting like a rabid dog the girls had seen one day, and Antoinette had no idea how to fix him. She wracked her brain for something to soothe him, but the only thing she could think of was dancing. It soothed her to dance, and maybe it would soothe him. At the least, it might help her.

Slowly, because she was a little worried about turning her back on him, Antoinette began the routine she had been practicing that morning. As she spun and turned, the movements flowed into each other, she could hear the music in her mind. She let the music and the movements wash over her, absorbing her. She was no longer in the catacombs; she was on stage, dancing before a cheering public. She was where she belonged.

When the number ended, Antoinette struck a pose, and was stunned to hear applause. Suddenly she was back in the filthy catacombs, and her only audience was the boy. But he was calm, clapping, and the look in his eye was no longer crazed and fearful. To her surprise, Antoinette's own fear had ebbed. Slowly, tentatively, she put out her hand. And slowly, tentatively, he took it.

**o**

Music swelled and filled the Opera House, and raucous laughter bounced off the empty seats. Antoinette allowed herself to be pulled into her new fiancé's arms and they swayed together to the music as the rest of the crew and corps cheered. If there was one thing that Opera folk were good at, it was throwing a party, and they loved occasions that called for them, such as weddings.

Gustav Giry had been courting Antoinette for almost a year, and she had finally agreed to marry him today. It wasn't that Gustav wasn't nice, which he was, or that he didn't support her goals as a dancer, which he did, or that her parents didn't approve, because they did. But she just didn't feel... connected to him. There was none of the passion, of the thrill with Gustav that she felt when she was with Erik.

Erik still lived beneath the Opera House, and she would visit him in the Catacombs. Sometimes she felt him watching her at practice, or saw a shadow in the halls late at night. She knew he was watching, listening, but he rarely spoke to her. Still, she couldn't help but follow him, call to him, dance for him. The look in his eyes scared her sometimes, and she never forgot the day they met, but still, she enjoyed being hear him. And she felt none of the same sparks with Gustav. Yes, he was gentle and kind and supportive and she should be lucky to have him, but Antoinette wanted more. She wanted passion.

So she danced with Gustav while Buquet and the others stamped in time. But in her mind, different arms, strong and dark arms, held her as they spun.

**o**

The House was filling with patrons; they snapped their fans and chatted merrily, and the sound echoed off the high domed ceiling. For the first time in years, Antoinette felt anxious as she allowed herself one small peak through the curtains. The sight of the crowd gave her the bad kind of jitters, but the sight of a shadow overhead chased them away with the good kind. Her belly flopped, and she scurried away from the front of the stage. Back with the other girls, she joined in the last minute warm ups. But this time, there was something different. She wasn't just another one of the girls tonight. Tonight, she was the Prima Ballerina, and tonight she would be understudying the lead for the first time.

As the music swelled, the curtains were pulled aside, and the first line of danseurs leap onstage. Soon she was twirling and spinning and losing herself in the music and the energy and the knowledge that somewhere, he was watching.

She hadn't been counting on the competitiveness of the other dancers, or perhaps the inattentiveness of the crew, but suddenly she was slipping, twisting, falling into the front row of the house. And as she fell, she heard and felt a crack.

**o**

The cane wasn't really necessary anymore - her leg had healed almost completely, and the doctor believed that she should be able to walk without a limp soon. It was good for beating the time for the girls, though, so she kept it around. She couldn't dance anymore, of course, but Monsieur Lefevre had hired her as the ballet mistress so that she wouldn't have to leave her home. With her husband gone and a young daughter entering the school, the Opera House was the only home she had; even though she could no longer perform.

"Five minute break!" she called as the music ended. "Marie, use the time to practice your rond de jambes. Laurie, work on your sautés. Christine, good work." The girls scattered, some running for water, some practicing. Christine and Meg sat on the edge of the stage and began to softly sing the aria that they had been dancing.

Suddenly, Antoinette felt his presence, and she looked up, easily finding his darker shadow against the grid. His eyes weren't on her, however, but focused on Meg and Christine. And just like that, all of the fire she had felt in his gaze evaporated. And she knew: she would never dance for Erik again. And he would never want her to.


End file.
